


Sitting On A Cornflake

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4369253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>karina-simonyan asked<br/>Hi! Could you maybe write #40 and klaine from that list please?)<br/>40. “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Walrus

Kurt has tried a lot of things.

He has tried to team up with the guy.

He has tried showing that he’s a good person, worthy of trust and friendship.

Everything, really.

But Anderson, Blaine, seems determined to stay on his lonesome, and Kurt is in despair.

Because he years for a look, a smile, something, and yes, he knows he’s pining and that it’s pathetic, thank you very fucking much.

So here he is, trying to eat his lunch without looking too sad or dejected, and his eyes keep on darting back to the lonely figure at the other side of the table.

He looks at the fries in his plate, and he looks at the salad Blaine eats so neatly and–

And he must have lost his mind somewhere on the way, because the next thing he knows, Kurt is putting two fries in his mouth to emulate his inner walrus.

A look in the glass panel next to him shows that it’s a very good impression, Sam would be proud.

But then, the reflection of the room shows something else.

It shows him Blaine looking at him and smiling.

Not smirking, or mocking.

Smiling, fondly even, before he looks away.

That’s all Kurt has ever wanted, and he pushes his luck.

Pulling the fries out, he slides on the bench to get in front of Blaine. “Excuse me,” he says softly, “have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”

Blaine blushes, and good Lord it is so very pretty, and he focuses on his plate.

“You don’t have to hide your smile,” Kurt insists, pushing because he doesn’t know what else to do–a Hummel man through and through–and Blaine sighs, shaking his head.

“No emotions, no pain,” he whispers, and Kurt’s heart breaks a little.

He who wears his heart on his sleeve.

“All the time?” he asks, and Blaine looks up, his eyes deep pools of molten gold and caramel.

“It’s the only way,” Blaine replies with a small shrug and a ghost of a smile, before picking up his tray and leaving the cafeteria.

Kurt looks at him going, picking up a fry to munch on while he thinks.

Thinks about the ways he can use to make Blaine smile.


	2. You Let Your Face Grow Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine's side of the story

Blaine Anderson is five years old when he learns that too much enthusiasm can bring you pain. **  
**

He has just learned a little dance to his favorite song–the one that makes his mommy blush and his daddy smile–and all he wanted was to show it to his brother.

But Cooper only sneers at him, with all the contempt of his 15 years, and points out all the things he’s doing wrong.

From that point on, Blaine learns to be quiet and to keep his happiness to himself or to his bedroom, where nobody can touch it.

Blaine Anderson is twelve years old when he learns that too much sensitivity can bring you pain.

All he did was sniffling at the end of “Au revoir les enfants”, because it is sad, and he didn’t think that it would make a difference to let a couple of tears escape, a couple of tears for the children who had to suffer because they were different.

But some of his classmates didn’t think so, and he comes home with dirty clothes and a head full of insults he doesn’t fully understand.

From that point on, Blaine learns that any emotion, good or bad, should be locked and kept away, because the World uses it as a way in to rip one apart.

Blaine Anderson is fifteen years old when he learns that just being yourself–even as subdued as he’s been for the last three years–can bring you pain.

All he wanted was to go to a school dance with a friend–just a friend, nothing more, but a friend that would not be a mask or a disguise.

The pain is more important than before, the hits landing him in an hospital bed for a couple of months–enough to make him miss graduation, and enough to convince his parents to enroll him in another school for his high school years.

From that point on, Blaine learns that he has to make himself invisible if he wants to survive long enough to get where he wants to go, where he wants to be in life.

At which point he’ll open up again.

Perhaps.

Blaine Anderson is seventeen years old when he learns that even the most carefully laid plan can become moot when one meets someone like Kurt Hummel.

—

Kurt is really trying his hardest.

Just to see that hint of a smile on Blaine’s face–and yes, he’s aware of how pathetic that makes him.

But to understand his motives, one would have to have seen it in the first place.

That smile, as small as it was, lightened up Blaine’s face–and while Kurt was already pretty fond of that face, the smile is …

Addicting.

One shot of it and Kurt is already chasing the next one.

Hence his quest to see what makes Blaine smile.

The fries/walrus face were a good start, but Kurt is not looking to add “most likely to join the Circus” to his pedigree, so he looks for other things.

Whenever he can, he sits not too far from Blaine and shares a running commentary on the abyss of stupidity some of their teachers are trying to submerge them with, but so far, barely a raise of the sculptural eyebrows.

Damn.

Kurt has spotted Blaine in the library more than once–it’s not stalking. Kurt does go to the same school and the same library. Shut up.–, leafing through ghost stories and other books of the same genre. So he has made sure that nobody else borrows them, by hiding them until he sees Blaine taking the direction of the library, and then he gets through a shortcut to put them back on.

Blaine has a soft look on his face, like the prelude to a smile, when he spots Kurt arranging “his” books on the shelf, and while it’s not what Kurt wanted, it’s enough to make his heart soar in his chest.

It’s either that or the fact that he basically ran the steps four by four, Kurt guesses we’ll never know.

Kurt has seen Blaine walking in school with a cup from the coffee shop down the road, every now and then, and again, thanks to many shortcuts and an increasing ability to run fast without feeling like he’s going to cough up a lung, Kurt has managed to leave prepaid cards for Blaine on no less than three occasions.

Sure, he hasn’t seen Blaine smile or anything, but the relaxation in his stance when he comes back to the school with his “free” drinks is well worth the embarrassment Kurt had to go through the first time he had to explain to the barista who he was paying for.

Kurt doesn’t know what takes over his body when he decides to buy a plush toy for Blaine, but he’s starting to get … A little desperate.

That, and he heard Tina Cohen-Chang making plans to invite Blaine to a school dance.

And while Kurt doesn’t want to just assume that Blaine plays for his team–and he must really be depressed to use sports metaphors–, he is all for giving Blaine’s choices.

Hopefully, choices that he will appreciate.

Oh Lord this is ridiculous.

Kurt straightens up at that and fixes the bow around the dog’s neck before walking in the direction of Blaine’s locker.

If he has learned anything from the “walrus” incident, it’s that Blaine apparently appreciates ridiculousness.

“Hi,” he says softly as he comes closer, and Blaine freezes before looking out of his locker and to Kurt. “I–I know it’s going to sound ridiculous and blunt, but I got you … this,” Kurt says, holding up the soft toy. “Because its eyes reminded me of you and it’s all soft and cuddly and i’m not saying that you are soft and cuddly but–”

“Really?”

Thank God Blaine cut him mid-rant. “Of course,” Kurt says after taking a deep breath, taking in the softness around the corners of Blaine’s mouth, the hope in his wide eyes, the way his hand is halfway raised towards the dog.

“What do you want in exchange for it?” Blaine asks, his hand finally closing around the strap of his bag.

“Nothing, it’s a–a gift,” Kurt replies, befuddled by Blaine’s question.

“Just a gift?”

“Just a gift.”

Instead of a smile, Kurt discovers Blaine’s frown–it’s charming, like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle.

Except that Kurt is that puzzle.

“And what’s the occasion?”

Gosh.

“Not–nothing, I just wanted to do something nice for you, you’re always so sad and alone and … You know what, nevermind, I’ll send it to the Children’s Hospital, forget about–”

“That’s awfully kind of you.”

Kurt looks back at Blaine, and there it is again, this … Like, this fear to hope too much because the harder the fall, but still, a hope to hope.

“That’s me, awfully kind and all,” he replies, and ah, there it is, a shadow of a smile on Blaine’s lips as he takes the dog from Kurt’s hand.

Kurt knows that he’s already pretty much gone on the guy, but he can’t help but notice how gentle he is, and how beautiful his fingers are as they dig into the polyester fur.

“Do you,” Blaine starts, keeping his eyes to the toy, “do you want to have lunch with me?”

And isn’t that the sweetest offer Kurt has ever heard.

For the next two months, Kurt spends all of the free time that he can discovering who Blaine is behind his walls.

Blaine is skittish but he has a dry, geeky sense of humor.

Blaine always seems like he’s on the verge of running away, but he obviously makes an effort not to–for Kurt.

Blaine saves Kurt a seat on the mornings where Kurt can’t escape his weekly run with the football team.

Blaine shares his chocolate pudding, but not the vanilla one.

Blaine has an opinion on many things but doesn’t share them in class, even though it’s often more intelligent and educated than what is actually being said.

Blaine has fascinating eyes, but he casts them down whenever Kurt tries to coax him out of his shell.

Blaine has the most amazing ass–and there is no but to that, pun completely intended.

And then Kurt decides that while he loves, adores, cherishes being Blaine’s friend, he wants to see if there is a chance for something else.

For something more.

So he decides to use Valentine’s Day and its commercial abuse of the Collective to woo Blaine off his pretty feet.

With a bouquet.

Because flowers say a lot of things without needing words, just like Blaine.

By now, Kurt knows Blaine’s schedule as well as his own, and he knows that today, Blaine will come down to the cafeteria using the outdoors stairs because it’s sunny and because it’s the only way to avoid the hockey team.

So he’s there, waiting for him with his little bouquet of roses, and he holds it up when he spots Blaine’s shoes on the steps.

Of all the things Kurt expected to make Blaine smile, it was not a silly little dozens of roses.

And yet.

<http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lx0v0jBVEq1r4k8tj.gif>

“These are for you,” Kurt says quietly, staying two steps lower than Blaine to bask in the glow of that smile. “To celebrate our friendship, and to give me a vessel to ask you to accompany me to a lunch outside of this establishment.”

Blaine takes the flowers, hiding his smile into the petals.

It’s not enough to hide the way his eyes are all soft and charmed as they stick to Kurt.

“Like a date?” Blaine asks softly and Kurt feels like he’s about to jump from a cliff.

“If–if you want it to be,” he finally replies breathlessly.

“Why do you want that?” Blaine asks, insistant.

“To take you on a date?”

“To … to hang out with me.”

“Well, uhm,” Kurt starts, trying to find his footing. “Because I like you?”

Blaine nods like he’s trying to wrap his mind around that notion. And then he looks at Kurt, and he’s beaming at him.

“You’re the bravest man I know,” he tells Kurt, brushing the flowers against Kurt’s arm.

“I don’t know about that,” Kurt replies, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“If you want me to believe that I am worth all the trouble you have gone through, can’t you believe me when I say that you are brave?” Blaine says, walking down one step to get closer. “And smart? And-and, and beautiful?”

The lunch period is coming to an end but there is no force on Earth that could make Kurt go away.

Not now that Blaine is opening up, and especially not when he’s saying those incredibly sweet things to Kurt.

“And so mind blowingly stubborn,” Blaine continues with a short laugh, “enough to make me question all I thought I knew.”

Blaine pauses, and Kurt wants to reach out, to hug him, to simply show a form of support.

“You–you moved me, Kurt, took me out of my carefully constructed shell,” Blaine whispers before leaning forward to press a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “And I would love to have lunch with you.”

“Y-yeah, okay, alright,” Kurt says, brushing his fingers against the spot Blaine just kissed.

As they walk towards the coffee shop to split a sandwich and a cookie, Kurt wonders how many layers he has to remove from Blaine–metaphorically speaking, of course (for now)–to get to the core of him.

Not that he minds: Kurt loves layers.


End file.
